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“she would stick a poppy behind hkr ear and go out 

INTO THE SUNSHINE.” 


See p. is 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 

How she became the Beautiful Pine-Tree in the Garden of 
Prince of Don’t-Care- What 


By 

John Luther Long 


Photographs by 


W. R. S. Miller 



PHILADELPHIA 

HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY 


LIBRARY Of G6N6RES6 
Two OeofM Receive# 

SEP 15 1904 



/ f 7 

COPY A' 



Copyright, 1904, by Henry Altemus 







t 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I 

What the People Said . 

CHAPTER II 

What She Wished 

CHAPTER III 

When She Slept and When She Woke 

CHAPTER IV 

What Miss Buttercup Thought — and 
Miss Peony, Too . 

CHAPTER V 

Bugs! 

CHAPTER VI 

That Night the Owl Called — and the 
Bat 


PAGE 

13 

25 

33 

43 

49 

61 


Vll 


Contents 


viii 


CHAPTER YIT page 

She Would n’t Marry the Prince if He 


Should Ask Her 

• 

69 


CHAPTER VIII 



Now the Fox 

CHAPTER IX 

• 

79 

The Story of 

Miss Roly-Poly 

CHAPTER X 

• 

87 

Why Did the 

Fox Laugh ? 

CHAPTER XI 

• 

95 

Into A Hole 

CHAPTER XII 

• 

103 

A Picture of 

Joy-Sing 

CHAPTER XIII 

• 

109 

He Could n’t 

Change Both Feet 

CHAPTER XIV 

• 

115 

If She Had 

Only Remained a 

Little 


Girl 

CHAPTER XV 


123 

Dogs ! . 

CHAPTER XVI 


131 


But — Was There No Tree — No Prince? 141 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


“ She would stick a poppy behind her ear and 
go out into the sunshine ” Frontispiece 
“ She would protest that she was excellently 

ugly” .... 

“ She dressed her own hair ” . 


. facing p. 16 
« re oo 

• 0*J 


“ She helped at the housework ” . “ “ 64 

“ Iler little upstairs room ” . . “ 11 81 

il She could n’t help wishing ” . u 11 06 

“ ‘ I will keep but one foot to get 

back with ’ ” . . . . “ 113 

“ ‘ Why — why — why, I am not old ! ’ ” “ u 1 14 

ix 













« 

t 





























WHAT 

THE PEOPLE SAID 







LITTLE MISS JOY-SING 


CHAPTER I 


WHAT THE PEOPLE SAID 



ITTLE Miss Joy-Sing liad con- 


-I ^ traded the habit of envy. Now, 
nothing is so'certain to make even a 
Japanese girl unhappy as envy. For, 
with that, she is sure to be different 
from all other Japanese girls— who 
are diligently taught content and how 
to get and keep it— and to be unlike 
everybody else is to go the way of 
loneliness. Indeed, there is a proverb 
in Japan about interring envy— as if 


13 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


it were dead and buried— or ought to 
be! 

And it was Miss Joy-Sing’s own 
beauty that made her envious— 
which you may think curious until 
you know the way of it. The people 
who knew her called her honorably 
beautiful, and those who did not know 
her called her augustly beautiful. It 
is true that Joy-Sing would protest— 
always— that she was excellently ugly. 
But that is only the way of Japanese 
politeness, and she would look into 
the small, round metal mirror, before 
which she made her toilet, and know 
that she was at least very pretty— if 
not augustly or honorably beautiful. 
But then — always— entered envy — 
discontent. For what was the use of 
it all ? It was only on the street that 
people called her beautiful. In her 
own home no one did so. For no one 
14 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


came there but very old men and wo- 
men— bent and seamed, and bald and 
bearded— and they did not care much 
about beautiful things— being con- 
stantly anxious about the taxes, the 
prices of food, and their funerals. 

And all these things were dull and 
sad to Joy-Sing, so she would flutter 
away from them, stick a poppy be- 
hind her ear and go out into the sun- 
shine. 

Thus she was nearly always quite 
happy— for she dressed her own hair, 
made her own kimono, and helped at 
the housework— until she looked up 
the hill. Then, as they say over there, 
the demons came and sat upon her 
brow. 

And this, too, must be explained. 

Her father was a humble potter, 
and lived at the bottom of the hill, in 
an ordinary Japanese house, with thin 
15 


Little Misg Joy-Sing 


paper walls, and heavy wooden shut- 
ters for the night, which made it look 
like a packing box. And all he did 
from morning to night was to turn 
his wheel, put water on the clay, fash- 
ion it into vases and teapots, and sing 
a little. You can fancy how tiresome 
this became by the time Joy-Sing was 
a considerable girl, especially the 
singing. For Joy-Sing’s father, like 
many another person who cannot 
sing, would sing. 

But— at the top of the hill lived the 
Prince of Don’t-Care- What. His 

splendid old yashiki had windows in 
it. And, every morning, from the 
opened shoji of her little up-stairs 
room, Joy-Sing could see the sun on 
the glass, and then the Prince come 
forth, in his glittering brocades and 
swords, at the head of his retinue, 
to worship the pine-tree. This would 
16 



“she would protest that she was 

EXCELLENTLY UGLY.” 




Little Miss Joy-Sing 


set our Miss J oy-Sing to thinking of 
all the fine stories she had ever heard 
about princes and pretty little girls. 
And then she would dream about this 
Prince and herself— splendid dreams 
—all in broad daylight! 

Now all this happened long ago. 

Alas ! more explanations are neces- 
sary here. 

Every one knows that what the men 
of the East think beautiful we often 
think ugly— and vice versa . Some- 
times it seems as if it were merely a 
matter of having been told very often 
and for a very long time that a thing 
is beautiful to make it so. At any 
rate, so it is in the matter of pine- 
trees in Japan. Long ago some one 
made a pine-tree very ugly., and called 
it beautiful, and kept on insisting that 
it was beautiful— and so it is to-day 
—a thing to be reverenced. And it 

2 — Little Miss J oy-Sing 17 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


is the more beautiful the more it is 
gnarled and twisted and aged. More- 
over, if the gardener can make of 
its foliage waves and birds and beasts 
and clouds— ad infinitum— then it is 
very beautiful. 

Now, this pine-tree of the Prince of 
Don’t-Care What was so old that no 
one living remembered its age. But 
it was at least three hundred years. 
Indeed, some of the wise ones— the 
sort of people who tell the age of a 
horse by looking at his teeth— looked 
unspeakably at the pine-tree and 
said it was at least a thousand years 
old! What do you think of that? 
Anyhow, one could see all sorts of 
queer things in its limbs and leaves. 
The gardeners who cared for it de- 
scended from one another, so that it 
had always been in the care of one 
family. And they were taught when 
18 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


quite young to know and to under- 
stand the habits of the precious tree 
exactly as if it lived and breathed. 

But, most important of all, things, 
in Japan, have souls as well as peo- 
ple. The spirits of one’s ancestors 
who have died, are believed, often, to 
return and live in some object near 
those they have loved on earth. And 
a pine-tree is held to be a fine place 
for a soul to reside. So that the Lord 
Buddha sometimes permits the ghost 
of the ancestor one has loved most to 
come and reside in one’s pine-tree. 

Thus it was with the Prince’s tree. 
It had been the home of the soul of 
one of his ancestors from time imme- 
morial. 

And this was the sort of Honorable 
Mister Pine-tree— to speak in Japan- 
ese— which Joy-Sing saw from her 
19 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


little up-stairs room every morning 
when she opened her shoji. 

It was so very beautiful— in the 
Japanese fashion, understand— and 
so very renowned— also in the Japan- 
ese fashion— that the ancestors of the 
young prince had kept it behind the 
high walls of the yashiki, so that no 
one might touch it, or even see it, 
without a permit, and in charge of 
the gardener, who carried a sword on 
such occasions. 

However, only a little while before 
this story begins, when the old prince 
died, and the young one came from 
the Imperial University, in Tokyo, 
where he had got a great deal of 
modern learning, the corner of the old 
wall where the tree stood had been 
torn down so that any one who wished 
might see it. 

But — a strong iron grating had 
20 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


been put up so that no one might 
touch it. Of course, no Japanese 
would have done this. They were all 
as proud of the tree as the prince. 
But, once a foreigner had secretly cut 
off a “ slip,” thinking that another 
such a funny tree would grow from it. 
For, he only thought it funny— not 
sacred or beautiful or the habitation 
of a soul. 

The prince was warned by the older 
men against another such occurrence, 
but, he was the most headstrong 
prince of the whole line, and he 
wrinkled his forehead into vertical 
folds between the eyes and said : 

“ The gardener who permitted that 
lost his head.” 

And the gardener who stood by 
shivered and meant not to lose his 
head. 


21 



WHAT 

SHE WISHED 




CHAPTER II 


WHAT SHE WISHED 

S UDDENLY, one day, before she 
knew wliat she was doing, Miss 
J oy-Sing sighed and said : 

“ Oh-h-h! I wish I were the au- 
gust prince’s honorable Mister Pine- 
tree—” 

Then she clapped her hand on her 
mouth. But it was too late. Her 
father had heard her. 

25 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


“ Miserable, my daughter/ ’ said he, 
sadly, “ unless you cleanse your heart 
of envy you will be most unhappy. 
And you will lose the other life with 
the Lord Buddha. The gods hear you, 
and may give you your intemperate 
wish, and it may be the last wish you 
are to have. Speak to them softly, so 
that the envy depart away.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Joy-Sing, going 
out into the sunshine, and forgetting 
all about the wooden gods she was to 
petition. 

And she couldn’t help wishing— 
which is itself a huge Japanese sin. 
For in Japan one must wish what 
one ’s uncles and aunts and other peo- 
ple like one to wish— and nothing else. 

So, now and then, her father saw 
her peeping through the slioji, and al- 
ways in the direction of the pine-tree 
—wherefore he said again one dav : 

26 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“Alas! still you wish, miserable 
my daughter. I see you in the morn- 
ing when the sun is on the windows, 
and in the evening when the lights are 
in them. Be admonished. Wishing 
makes things happen. The gods read 
the heart. Do you not remember how 
Honorable Little Miss Green Bamboo 
wished and became a rock in the gar- 
den of the Prince of Wait-for-Some- 
thing*? A rock with water, which is 
her tears, flowing out of it always'? 
Well, then!” 

But this was not the sort of thing to 
frighten romantic Miss Joy-Sing. 
To be a rock in the garden of the 
Prince of Wait-for-Something— even 
in tears— was not a thing to regret- 
no! 

For he would come every morning 
in his glittering brocades and swords, 
with his retinue, and, putting his head 
27 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


on his hands before the rock, would 
probably say : 

“ O august one, who has miserably 
come to reside in the garden of me- 
in the rock of me— once more the sun 
shines, and it is morning. Once more 
I salute you. Once more I beg hap- 
piness, beauty, joy, long life of you— 
permitted of the gods you are to give 
it unto me. Miserably I trust you 
have slept well, most august. Again 
I drink your tears— again I bathe in 
them— my face, my hands, my body. 
Once more I bow to you very hum- 
bly.’ ’ 

And she kept on thinking how it 
would be sweet to have people come 
to the grating and admire her— and 
speak of her in her hearing — worship 
her ! 

Now, you perceive how her mind 
had drifted from the rock in the gar- 
28 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


den of the Prince of Wait-f or- Some- 
thing to the pine-tree in the yashiki 
of the Prince of Don’t-Care- What. 

So that she was quite incorrigible— 
and everything finally turned into 
that one wish— no matter where it be- 
gan, there it ended. 



29 























































* 











































WHEN SHE SLEPT 
AND WHEN SHE WOKE 














CHAPTER III 


WHEN SHE SLEPT AND WHEN SHE WOKE 



ELL, she was wishing this 


V V when she went to bed one 
night— a little more unconsciously 
than she did .sometimes— and woke 
with a strange feeling in her limbs. 
She tried to rub her eyes, but could 
not. And, presently, when she looked 
dimly down, there was nothing to be 
seen but a confusion of gnarled limbs 
and some patches of queer foliage. 


3 — Little Miss Joy-Sing 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


They were like upturned hands at the 
ends of crippled arms. 

And she could presently make out 
the shapes of beasts and birds, and 
waves and fishes she had heard about, 
but had never been quite able to see 
before, and she laughed to think how 
differently a pine-tree looks from 
above— 

Then, very suddenly and shocking- 
ly, she understood. She was the 
prince’s pine-tree, and wishing had 
made it happen. 

At first she was decidedly sorry. 
But in a moment she was not quite 
sure that she was sorry. It was some- 
thing to know that she had done it. 
And presently the prince would come. 
No! She was not sorry! She would 
not be. And then the sun burst glori- 
ously forth and dried the dampness 
which had been just a little disagree- 
34 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


ble and warmed her to her very 
heart, and she was glad— yes, she 
would have shouted if she could. But 
here a little chill overtook her. She 
could not shout, or sing, or gossip— 
she had to behave precisely as a pine- 
tree— and SUCH a pine-tree— would. 

However, she hadn’t a moment to 
indulge anything like regret. A glit- 
tering little procession started from 
the palace, and she knew that the 
prince was coming to worship her— 
her! This always happened at sun- 
rise, precisely. 

She tried to put her hands to her 
hair, and was pleased to remember 
that she was a pine-tree, and that at 
any rate the gardener would attend 
to that hereafter. Her hair-dressing 
had always been an operation of 
three or four hours, and she was glad 
35 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


that instead of hair there was to be 
only green leaves. 

On came the Prince of Don’t-Care- 
What and his retinue. They looked 
splendid in the morning sun. And 
she had never seen any one quite so 
beautiful and manly as This young 
daimyo, she thought. 

“ O, august soul,” said the prince, 
“ I come at the rising of the sun to 
bow to you.” 

And then he bowed to the very 
earth a dozen times. 

“ With the sleep still in my eyes— 
I bow to you.” 

And he repeated the bowing. 

“ Yet have I washed and am very 
clean— that I may bow to you.” 

For a moment he looked up at the 
pine-tree. 

“ I wish that you may have slept 
well; that you may have all joy and 
36 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


no sorrow ; that I may be enabled to 
do what will please you always— for- 
ever— and this day especially. Thus 
I miserably wish— thus I pray, O au- 
gust soul of an august ancestor ! 
Heavenly root of an earthly tree ! ? ’ 

And Miss Joy-Sing would have 
shouted again— if she had not been a 
pine-tree. 

She had not been able to look at 
the prince carefully. But now, as he 
gazed solicitously up at her, she saw 
that he was even more beautiful than 
she had fancied— with a pale aristo- 
cratic face, beautiful vertical lines in 
his forehead, and splendid long eyes. 
She really could not help expressing 
her joy in .some fashion, so she shook 
her limbs at him. 

Now, this was a distinct breach of 
pine-tree decorum. No soul had ever 
been known to do such a forward thing. 
37 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


And the Prince of Don’t-Care- What 
was renowned all over the world for 
his knowledge of Japanese etiquette. 

He stared a little, and then his face 
plainly said that he was sorry for this 
gaucherie of the soul in the pine-tree. 
But, of course, he would not let this 
appear. So he said to the gardener : 

“ Perhaps a bug disturbs the hon- 
orable serenity of my august ances- 
tor!” 

Miss Joy-Sing shuddered. Bugs! 
Caterpillars! She imagined herself 
covered with them. 

But, after the prince was gone, she 
looked at herself, and saw neither 
bug nor caterpillar, and was once 
more very happy. For, would he not 
come again in the morning ? She 
would have sung— there was a very 
pretty song she knew about pine-trees 
—only, as I have said, pine-trees have 
38 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


no voice for singing. This made her 
reflect for a moment. Was she never 
to sing again'? Or laugh? Such a 
fate seemed rather dreadful. Yet, it 
was quite certain that pine-trees did 
none of these things! But she was 
comforted by the thought that if wish- 
ing made things happen so easily she 
would simply wish herself back at 
home if she should ever tire of this— 
which seemed quite impossible now. 



39 































. 




























































\ 














WHAT MISS BUTTERCUP 
THOUGHT— AND MISS 
PEONY, TOO 


.1 




CHAPTER 1\ 


WHAT MISS BUTTERCUP THOUGHT — AND 
MISS PEONY, TOO 



HE next day her father came, 


± weeping, to the tree, and 
begged piteously to know if she were 
there. But, of course, she could not 
make him understand, though she felt 
very sorry for him. Somehow, she 
liked him better with the tears for 
her in his eyes. Everybody likes other 
people better with tears in their eyes 


43 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


for them! And, for a moment, she 
thought of ending it all with another 
wish and of going home with him. But 
then she would not be there when the 
prince came in the morning. So, no ! 

And Miss Peony and Miss Butter- 
cup, her best two friends, came and 
begged her, if it were she, to wish to 
come home. 

“ Because your honorable and very 
old father wished us to say that to 
you,” said Miss Buttercup. “ But, if 
there is really a prince behind those 
walls, and you can see him every 
morning— oh, I don’t know what I 
would do! I think I would not come 
home— never !” 

“And if the prince really worships 
you! ” sighed Peony-San— “I would 
stay in a pine-tree forever and ever 
to have a splendid prince come in the 
morning and worship me.” 

44 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


And Miss Buttercup asked, fur- 
ther: 

“ Does he really how, and bow, and 
bow to you*? And is there a poem— 
which he writes and recites every 
morning— a fresh one? Think of a 
poem— a fresh one— every morning! 
Some girls never have a poem written 
to them in their whole lives. And, 
perhaps, you have one written and 
read to you every morning. Oh! I 
would stay ! 9 9 

“And does he wear his swords and 
hisdaimyo head-dress when becomes ? 
Only think of a prince bowing, bow- 
ing, bowing, to you! If I were your 
father I would not wish you back. 
For, perhaps, if he does that you will 
have to come back. And, oh, dear, 
you would never be contented now — 
never! I wish I were you— if it is 
you? Is it?” 


45 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


But, of course, Miss J oy-Sing could 
not tell them it was she— though their 
beautiful words made her both very 
proud and very determined to remain 
a pine-tree— and, anyhow, just then 
she did feel a bug cutting her limb— 
which took all the attention away 
from them. 



46 






BUGS! 





CHAPTER V 
bugs! 

RESENTLY the gardener came 



X with some sharp tools. Miss 
Joy-Sing shuddered. He put some 
boards up against the gratings so that 
people could not see— she remem- 
bered that she had wondered, before 
she became a pine-tree, what they 
were put there for— and then he said, 
ferociously : 


“ Bugs!” 

4 — Little Miss Joy -Sing 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


He went all over her with his sharp 
tools, and cut and hurt her dreadfully. 
She would have cried if a pine-tree 
could. And she would have wished 
herself at home if she had not been 
too much disturbed to even wish. Be- 
sides, just then the prince came down. 
He would make the gardener be kind 
to her, she knew. And, anyhow, it 
was a prince in her vicinity. 

But the prince was in negligee, and 
had a foreign cigarette in his mouth. 
And he had no idea of worshipping 
her now. That was over for the da} r ; 
and he showed that he was glad of it ! 
She did not like him so much that 
way. 

“ Found the bug?” he asked, 
roughly. 

“ There is no bug, augustness,” 
said the man. 

“ Find the bug,” said the prince, 
50 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


“ or I will have you whipped and con- 
fined.’ ’ 

His tone was so shocking for a 
prince of Don’t-Care- What that Miss 
Joy-Sing could not help a little flut- 
ter. He saw this. 

“ Something still disturbs the spirit 
of my ancestor— or else it is the spirit 
of a fool.” 

And that was most shocking. It 
was distinctly calling her horrid 
names ! 

Suddenly the gardener, to save 
himself, pretended to have found a 
bug. 

“ Ah !” he cried, thrusting the knife 
into Miss J oy-Sing. 

How, though she was a tree, it hurt 
just as much as if she were a girl. 
She wanted to shriek, but, of course, 
could not. And this made her sit- 
uation all the more heartrending. 

51 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


Just try and fancy it ! Some one put- 
ting a knife into you and you not able 
to say a word or move a limb ! 

“ I knew it,” said the prince, strik- 
ing a match upon the back of ‘the 
gardener and lighting a fresh cigar- 
ette. “ I always know. Trim that 
ragged branch away.” 

“ Augustness,” protested the gar- 
dener, “ it has been that way for, lo, 
these three hundred years. It was 
there the foreigner cut off the slip — ” 

“ Off with it!” thundered the 
prince. 

Before she could catch her breath 
the gardener had snipped it off. 
Now fancy that , if you please ! Again 
she suffered all the pangs of dismem- 
berment. She looked down, expect- 
ing to see the blood flow, but there 
was only a ragged white end, wet with 
sap. And even then the gardener put 
52 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


something on it which burned and 
hurt for days. Fancy that, too ! Put- 
ting caustic in a fresh wound on a 
tender limb. 

“ Now let it alone,” said the prince. 

So she was left alone all the rest of 
the day, with the grating shut, and no 
one to see or to pity, and she could 
not cry ! 

But a dove, noticing her sadness, 
came from a torii near by and sat on 
her tallest limb, and spoke softly to 
her. 

At first .she did not understand, but 
the dove spoke very slowly, and soon 
she comprehended every word. 

“ It is very beautiful to be the 
prince’s pine-tree,” said the dove. 

“ No, it is not ! They have hurt me, 
and I’d like to cry,” said Joy-Sing, 
“ and cannot.” 

“Ah, often I am hurt and would 
53 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


like to cry/’ answered the dove, “ and 
cannot. It is so all over the world, 
and with all the creatures. Only men 
and women cry.” 

But I don’t like the prince as 
much as I did before I ever was near 
him. And I hate to stand still all the 
time. Yet— I have wished to change 
back to a nice little girl and nothing 
has happened. It is perfectly ter- 
rible to think that, perhaps, I shall 
not have another wish. You know, 
in life, we each have a certain num- 
ber of wishes— no one knows how 
many. As long as there are any of 
our wishes left we get everything we 
wish for. But it must be with all the 
heart. Then, when the last wish is 
granted, we can have no more. I sup- 
pose all that is the matter is that I 
have not wished with all my heart yet. 
I cannot have exhausted all my wishes 
54 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


so soon. Why, I have scarcely wished 
for anything yet. ’ ’ 

“ No, you cannot have exhausted 
all your wishes,” smiled the dove, 
“ and, perhaps, you would not like to 
soar away off to the sky, as I do. 
You would probably be afraid. So, 
it is better that you wished to be a 
pine-tree rather than— an eagle, for 
instance.” 

“ Yes,” admitted Joy-Sing, “ I al- 
ways get dizzy when I go up high. If 
the prince were anything like I 
thought him I should not mind.” 

“Ah, dear, no prince is what we 
think him.” 

“ But, I am lonely. And I will 
not be lonely. I never was until I 
became a pine-tree.” 

“ You shall not be lonely, dear,” 
said the dove. “ I will call every day. 
And there are bugs— ” 

55 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


Joy-Sing shivered audibly. 

“Ah, you do not like bugs ! Neither 
do I. But some of the creatures find 
them great fun. Some eat them.” 

“ There is one in that limb just be- 
low, and he bores dreadfully. And 
he buzzes, buzzes night and day. He 
spoils my rest. I— I— I wish you ’d 
eat him! ” ended Joy-Sing, desper- 
ately. 

The dove was distinctly embar- 
rassed. 

“ I— I ’d like to oblige you, dear,” 
he said; “ no one is more obliging 
than I am. But I do not care greatly 
for bugs. Er— has the owl called 
yet?” 

“ No; no one but you has called.” 

“ Well, I am going now— and I ’ll 
ask the owl to call at once. Only he 
never calls before six. He is so cor- 
rect in everything ! I think he is fond 
56 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


of bugs, and he is so wise. Just men- 
tion the matter to him. Good-bye, 
dear. I am not going because you 
asked me to eat the bug. Keep up 
your spirits. You will like the owl.” 

“ Yes, if he likes bugs,” said Joy- 
Sing, crossly. 



57 




































































































. 




































































































































































































































THAT NIGHT THE OWL 
CALLED— AND THE BAT 

























































































\ 













































CHAPTER VI 


THAT NIGHT THE OWL CALLED— AND 
THE BAT 

T HAT night, considerably after 
six, the owl came and sat on 
her upper limb and stared at her a 
long time. Then he said: 

“ Who?” 

“ Miss Joy-Sing,” said the tree, 
“ my father—” 

“ Who?” said the owl, again. 

“ I was just going to tell you. My 
61 



Little Miss Joy-Sing 


father is a potter, and lives at the bot- 
tom of this— ” 

4 4 Who ? ’ ’ said the owl. 

44 Why, I have just told you! I 
don’t think you wise at all. I think 
you stupid. And I don’t care how 
soon you go away. The bat likes bugs, 
too. Maybe he will call!” 

44 Who?” said the owl once more. 

44 The bat. Is that the only word 
you know ? Well, then, every time you 
say 4 who ’ I ’ll say 4 bugs ’—so, there ! 
That is all you ’re good for— bugs, 
bugs, bugs!” 

The owl seemed to understand that. 
He silently felt his way straight to 
the place where the bug was boring. 
There was a little struggle, the crack- 
ing of some bones, and then the owl 
went back to his limb and again 
looked solemnly down. 

44 Oh, thank 3^011!” said Joy-Sing. 

62 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ But that is a relief! I ’m sorry I 
called you names. You ’re not stupid 
—not so very stupid. You ’re better 
than nobody. But won’t you please 
ask some of the other creatures to 
call 9 It is so horribly lonely.” 

“ Who ?” asked the owl. 

“ Oh, any one who is nice. It is so 
lonely without—” 

The sun began to threaten, and the 
owl flew away. 

“ Without so much as good-night,” 
said Joy-Sing, bitterly. “ I wish they 
were all as polite as the dove.” 

No other creature came, and after 
a while J oy-Sing said : 

“ Oh, how lonely it is! I would be 
glad to talk to— anything!” 

A bat was circling above her, and 
she thought: 

“ I hope he won’t call. I never 
63 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


liked bats. They get into one’s hair. 
And I can’t dodge ! ” 

But even then the bat alighted. 

“ Good-morning,’’’ he said, gayly. 

“ I don’t know you,” said Joy- 
Sing. 

“ Oh, yes, you do. You used to know 
me before you became a pine-tree. 
And then you used to hate me. You 
would drive me out with the broom 
the moment I showed my nose at your 
house. But now you are a pine-tree, 
I feel that we shall become the best 
of friends. And you do not need to 
be afraid, for you have no hair for 
me to get into. And I do not get intc 
hair, anyhow. That ’s an unworthy 
superstition. Besides, there are bugs 
—which is not pleasant for you— and 
I can relieve you of them.” 

“ There was one, but the owl has 
been here and eaten him. And if you 
64 





“she helped at the housework.” 





































Little Miss Joy-Sing 


do not take care I will get him to eat 
you.” 

“ You are as cross and impolite as 
ever,” said the bat, soaring away; “ I 
am afraid of you! ” 



5 — Little Miss Joy-Sing 






























SHE WOULD N’T MARRY 
THE PRINCE IF HE 
SHOULD ASK HER 





















































































CHAPTER VII 

SHE WOULD N'T MARRY THE PRINCE 
IF HE SHOULD ASK HER 



HE was alone all the rest of the 


kJ) night. And it was more terri- 
ble than she had even fancied. And 
so cold ! Again she tried to wish, but 
could not, and nothing happened. 

But then the sun rose, and there 
was that splendid and worshipful 
ceremony, and there was no bug to 
trouble her, and presently she was 


69 



Little Miss Joy-Sing 


glad once more that she had not suc- 
ceeded in wishing herself back. Then, 
again, after the prince was gone, it 
was quite as lonely as the day before. 
The boards went up once more, and 
the gardener hunted for the bug. And 
she could n’t even tell him that it was 
no longer there ! And he cut off more 
limbs. Fancy all that ! 

She began to wish with all her 
might to be back at her own little 
room in her own futons (which is the 
same as bed in English, though it is 
not an English bed at all, but only a 
sort of a wadded overcoat put on 
backward), and nothing happened— 
nothing whatever. She was still a 
pine-tree. And she resolved that she 
would not marry the prince, nor live 
happy ever after, if he should ask 
her. In fact, in that case, she should 
tell him that she hated him ! 

70 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


Now, from that day on, the pine- 
tree began to droop in a way that was 
unaccountable to the prince. They 
put upon her the most nauseous 
things possible, as tonics. They 
pruned her, and braced and “ en- 
couraged ” her till she was ready to 
die of weariness. Then came winter, 
and she shivered all the time. And 
her limbs were frozen, and when it 
snowed, the little upturned hands she 
had once thought so pretty were only 
places for keeping the cold snow a 
little longer upon her. 

And, one day, while she was piled 
high with snow, the prince came and 
worshipped. She almost hated him 
now. And, as his shaven crown was 
bowed beneath her, she shook her 
limbs violently and covered his naked 
head with snow. 

He leaped up, furiously. 

71 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


There was no one in sight who 
might have shaken the tree, and there 
was only one conclusion to be drawn. 

He whipped out his sword. 

“ You ingrate !” he cried; “ you 
soul of a fool ! Here, now, will I cut 
you down!” 

Joy-Sing shuddered with fear, and 
he would have certainly done it if he 
had not at the moment remembered 
that the sword was his best one— the 
one decorated with diamonds and 
rubies, and worn only on state oc- 
casions. To cut down the pine-tree 
would be to ruin it. Besides, no 
one kept a perfect edge on his holi- 
day sword. 

“ I will get my every-day sword, 
and then I will hew you down— yea, 
though you were the habitation of a 
thousand souls, all of whom must be 
homeless. I am the Prince of Don’t- 
72 


Little Miss Jov-Sing 


Care- What!” threatened the Prince 
terribly. 

He went to the house in an awful 
rage, and did not return. The truth 
is, that it had been so long since he 
had worn his every-day sword that 
it had been mislaid. And he was 
quite determined, notwithstanding his 
wrath, not to ruin the ruby sword. 
So, only because of this happy chance, 
the tree lived on. 

But Joy-Sing had received her les- 
son. What if he should cut her down? 
What would become of her? And 
would n’t it hurt horribly? 

She asked the owl. But she could 
make nothing of his answer. 

“ Who? ” said the owl. 

“Me! me! me! That is what I 
asked you,” shouted Joy-Sing. 
“ Who will I be then ? What ? Where ? 
Will it hurt? ” 


73 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ Who? ” said the owl. 

Then she begged the dove to ask 
him. 

“ That is the only way, says the 
owl, to secure your release and become 
a girl again,” said the dove. “ The 
owl is strange and eccentric, but he 
is very wise— there is no doubt about 
that. I understand his language bet- 
ter than you do. So the owl says you 
must make him cut you down. That 
is a fine suggestion. It is a pity, and 
it is a shame, for all the creatures 
know you now, and love you, and it 
will be quite like losing an old friend. 
But, perhaps, when you are a girl 
again you will not forget us who were 
kind to you when you were a pine- 
tree.” 

“ Oh, I will never, never, forget 
you, nor anything I have learned 
here, if you will help me to get away,” 
said Joy-Sing. 


74 


Little Miss Joy^Sing 


“ Well, then, you must provoke the 
prince to cut you down. It will be 
painful,, he says, but after that you 
will be quite as you were again. 

“ But how can I make him cut me 
down?” wailed Joy-Sing. 

This neither the dove nor the owl , 
nor the bat knew, though they cud- 
gelled their wits ceaselessly. 

“ You see, dear,” explained the 
dove , 4 ‘ they are wise but not cunning. 

I am afraid you will have to ask the 
fox.” 



75 



NOW 
THE FOX 



■«5pFV 





CHAPTER VIII 
NOW THE FOX 

N OW, among the acquaintances 
Joy-Sing made after she be- 
came a pine-tree was the fox, of 
course. Everybody and everything 
in Japan is acquainted with the fox. 
I know this seems a very ordinary 
announcement to you. But you are to 
be made still more wise by being told 
about foxes. There are many wild 
animals in Japan which trouble the 
79 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


Japanese very little, indeed. But the 
domestic fox is terrible. For he can 
infest one and make one do the most 
strange and awful things. It is some- 
thing like being bewitched— only a 
thousand times worse. 

I have heard of a rice farmer who 
saw a railroad train on one of Jap- 
an’s new railroads rushing down upon 
him in a cut from which he could not 
escape. He dropped on his knees to 
pray a moment before being killed, 
and he must have said just the right 
words (there ARE right words, but 
no one except certain priests know 
them, and they charge so much for re- 
peating them that poor people cannot 
buy them)— yes, the farmer must 
have happened upon just the right 
words to exorcise the fox, for, lo ! the 
train stopped snorting and roaring 
and disappeared— and a fox ran by, 
80 













■ 







































* 





. 






























































































! HER LITTLE UPSTAIRS ROOM.” 





Little Miss Joy-Sing 


so that the rice farmer knew that it 
had all been done by the fox ! 

This is only a small sample of what 
he can do. 

But, then, just as in witchcraft 
there are a few good witches, so, in 
Japan, there are a few good foxes. 
And the one J oy-Sing found scratch- 
ing at her roots one night claimed to 
be this sort. At first, of course, she 
was frightened, and mistrusted him— 
as it is always wise to mistrust a fox 
till one knows that he is good. But 
the fox said: 

“ Now, don’t you be frightened. I 
have a bad reputation, I know. But, 
did you ever hear that I hurt a pretty 
girl? Or that I even play tricks on 
them? No! I am much too fond of 
pretty girls!” 

“ Can you say kon-kon? ” whis- 
pered Joy-Sing. 

6 — Little Miss Joy-Sing, fil 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


For this, you must know, as every 
Japanese girl does, is the way to tell 
a bad fox from a good one. A bad 
fox cannot say kon-kon, but will say, 
in spite of himself, kwai-kwai. 

But this fox immediately repeated, 
after Joy-Sing, the words kon-kon. 

For, though he was in reality a gob- 
lin-fox of the most distinguished type 
—that is, not the sort of fox who gets 
into one and makes him do strange 
things, but one that can change his 
shape, and who works by enchant- 
ments— though he was that sort of a 
fox, yet he could say kon-kon, be- 
cause he watched Joy-Sing’s lips, and 
did with his exactly what she had 
done with hers, knowing nothing of 
the sound. For these foxes cannot 
hear the sound of their voices when 
they say kon-kon or kwai-kwai. 
However, though he was a goblin-fox, 
82 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


he was very good-natured, as yon will 
see, and much the best kind of a fox 
for Joy-Sing. 

“ There,’ ’ said the fox, in an in- 
jured tone, “ I am sure that I have 
proved to you that I am Inari-Kit- 
sune ”— which is the family name of 
good foxes— “ and that you can trust 
me.” 

And Joy-Sing had to admit that 
this was true. 

“ On the contrary,” went on the 
fox, “ you must have heard how I 
helped Miss Roly-Poly, of Rice-Field- 
Dyke, to get rid of an enchantment 
the badger of Netsukei had put upon 
her?” 

“ No,” said Miss Joy-Sing, weakly, 
“ I never heard of it.” 

“ Then, perhaps, you will not mind 
me telling it? ” 

“ I should like it very much,” con- 
83 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


fessed J oy-Sing, liking the fox more 
and more— which, indeed, was pre- 
cisely what the fox meant her to do. 
For there is no animal in the world 
who knows so well how to fascinate a 
girl as Inari-Kitsune. 



84 


THE STORY OF 
MISS ROLY-POLY 







V 



































/ 


































- 


















































CHAPTER IX 

THE STORY OF MISS ROLY-POLY 

S O the fox sat on his haunches, and 
told the following story : 

“ Miss Koly-Poly was nearly as 
pretty as you were— you know I have 
often seen you when you did not see 
me, before you were a pine-tree 
(which was entirely untrue!)— but 
she was not as discriminating in 
her friendships as you are. So when 
the badger of Netsukei came by her 
87 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


father’s rice-fields one night, with his 
coat .shining and his whisk ont, in- 
tending abominably to infatuate her, 
she fell at once into his snare. He 
asked her to walk with him as far as 
the bridge, where the moon was in the 
water, telling her how beautiful the 
sight was, and she did so, because, you 
know, nothing so appeals to a J apan- 
ese girl as the moon in the water, but 
much more because of Netsukei’s very 
fascinating manners and conversa- 
tion. 

“ However, no sooner had they ar- 
rived where the moon lay on the water 
(and, indeed, he had told her the 
truth, -so far, for it was more beauti- 
ful than Bunchosai has ever painted 
it!) than she was stricken almost 
dumb with admiration of it. Now, 
you know that the moon can be seen 
from under the water as well as from 
88 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


over it. And the wicked badger 
tempted Miss Roly-Poly by saying 
that it was more beautiful that way, 
so that she consented to go with him 
under the water to see it. 

“ ‘ But,’ said the cunning badger, 
‘ I must change you into a fish to do 
so, or you will drown. ’ 

“ ‘And will you change me back 
again to a pretty girl % ’ asked Miss 
Roly-Poly. 

“ 6 Certainly!’ said the badger, as 
if his feelings had been hurt by the 
girl’s mistrust. ‘ Do you suppose for 
an instant that I have such bad taste 
as to permit a pretty girl like you to 
remain a fish'? Besides, there are 
badgers who are mean enough to eat 
fish! ” 

So she let him change her into a 
fish. 

“And so she remained, and narrow- 
89 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


ly escaped being eaten by odious 
Netsukei’s, till I-—” 

“And did you change her back to a 
pretty little girl again?” asked Miss 
Joy-Sing, anxiously. 

“ I did,” said the fox, proudly. 

“And— and you saved her life! ” 

“ I did, indeed. I came just in 
time.” 

“ Then, maybe you can help me?” 
cried J oy-Sing. “ For, to tell you the 
truth, I am not a pine-tree, really, 
but a pretty little girl, just as Miss 
Roly-Poly was.” 

And thereupon Miss J oy-Sing told 
the fox her whole story. 

“ I can help you,” said the fox, 
“ and, what is more and better, I will! 
There! But it will be more difficult 
than the case of Miss Roly-Poly. You 
have let this go too long. Being a 
pine-tree has become chronic with 
you. Still-” 


90 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


J oy-Sing thought the fox had fallen 
asleep. But he explained that he was 
only thinking. 



91 












































































































I 






























































WHY DID 

THE FOX LAUGH? 







































■ 

















CHAPTER X 

WHY DID THE FOX LAUGH? 

“T SAW a dove talking to you to- 
1 day.” 

“ Oh, yes!” cried Joy-Sing. “ She 
is my best friend.” 

“ That is well,” said the fox, mys- 
teriously. “Ask her to-night when 
she calls if she can have a fresh dove 
here every night.” 

“ But why?” asked the unsus- 
picious Joy-Sing. 

95 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ They will be of the greatest ser- 
vice to me. I am very fond of doves, ’ ’ 
said the fox. “And they usually 
agree with me. They will do what I 
ask readily— and Miss Roly-Poly did 
not ask troublesome questions.’ ’ 

“You won’t hurt the dove?” 

“ Certainly not,” said the fox. “ I 
trust the doves will not hurt me. I 
do not think they will.” 

“A dove could not hurt you,” 
laughed Miss Joy-Sing. “You are 
much larger.” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” said the fox. 
“ My digestion is not what it was.” 

“ I do not understand that,” said 
Miss Joy-Sing. “ Anyhow, the dove 
has a beautiful plan for getting me 
back to being a girl again ’’—and she 
told him of the dove’s plan— “ but the 
trouble is that neither she nor the owl 
can execute the plan.” 

96 




“she couldn’t help wishing.” 




















































































































































Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ It is often the case/ ’ said the fox, 
oracularly, “ that clever people end 
with being clever. Then they have to 
call in some one who begins by be- 
ing clever.’ ’ 

“ Oh!” said Miss Joy-Sing, de- 
lightedly. 

“ That is me,” said the fox, throw- 
ing out his chest. 

“ Oh!” said Miss Joy-Sing again. 

The fact is that the fox, notwith- 
standing his protests of modesty, had 
begun to fascinate Miss J oy-Sing 
quite as the badger had fascinated 
Miss Roly-Poly. Only, the case of 
Miss Joy-Sing did not look so hope- 
less, because the fox was likely to 
linger over a thing he liked until the 
fascination departed and one got 
one’s senses quite back. 

“ Now,” the fox went on, “ I think 

7 — Little Miss J oy-Sing m 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


I can put this plan of the dove’s into 
perfect execution.” 

. “ Oh!” said Miss Joy-Sing. 

“ I must have the assistance each 
night of a dove, or some other of the 
feathered creatures with a sharp bill 
—and— and— ahem !— a tender breast. 
Under my directions, they shall strip 
the tree of its verdure. Every night 
we shall accomplish something, and 
presently the tree will be as bare as 
when it was born— for, you know T , 
trees are quite leafless when they are 
born. Then, after the night’s labor, 
I will invite the tired dove or other 
feathered creature to repose in my 
burrow and— and— ” 

“ What then?” asked curious little 
Joy-Sing. 

But the fox only laughed and said : 

“ Never mind. I ’ll do the rest.” 

“ It is very strange that the dove, 
98 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


who first thought of the plan, could 
not think how to do it ! It seems very 
simple and easy to you,” mused Joy- 
Sing. 

‘ 4 Not at all,” said the fox. “ That 
is the way with many people. They 
must be taught how to use their own 
hands and feet. That is why the gods 
made foxes so wise. You never saw 
a fox work , did you?” 

“ Why, no !” said Miss Joy-Sing. 

“ Well, so it was intended. I sup- 
pose I COULD strip the green off of 
the tree if I would. But what would 
you think of me if you saw me work- 
ing? Like a beaver, for instance. 
You would lose all respect for me! ” 

Miss Joy-Sing had to admit that 
she would not consider him so cun- 
ning and powerful. 

“The mind that boldly conceives is 
99 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


always above the plodding hand that 
executes the conception.” 

“ Yes! ” said Joy-sing, breathless- 
ly. She had heard of the fox’s great 
words. 

“ Well, then, persuade the dove to 
come here to-night and begin.” 



100 


INTO 
A HOLE 




CHAPTER XI 


INTO A HOLE 

S O, when the soft-voiced dove 
called that night, J oy-Sing told 
her of the fox’s plan, and she was so 
rejoiced at it that she at once took up 
the work of stripping the tree, and by 
the time the light began to show in 
the east there was quite a patch of 
bare limbs. 

“ Why did n’t I think of that my- 
self?” said the delighted dove. 

103 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ The fox says yonr mind does not 
go that far,” said Miss Joy-Sing. 

Then the fox came from his hole 
and said : 

“ Sh! It is now light, and you are 
very tired, dear which was true. 
“ Come, here is a hole for you where 
you cannot be seen. It is my habita- 
tion. Use it as your own. Rest. 
Sleep! ” 

The dove flew away to the hole, and 
Joy-Sing never saw her again, and 
the fox slept all the next day. 

But the next night there was an- 
other— the first one had arranged ii 

And the next night another, and so 
on and on and on— the supply of 
doves never failed ! 

After this had proceeded for a long 
while, and the tree had become very 
bare, Joy-Sing began to wonder what 
had become of all the doves that went 
104 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


into the fox’s burrow. One day she 
asked him. 

“ Because,” she went on, “ there 
are no more doves ! If the tree is not 
done we will have to get other crea- 
tures.” 

“ What!” cried the fox. “ I can- 
not have eat— No more doves in the 
whole world?” 

“ I do not think there are any more 
doves in the world ! I do no t under- 
stand it!” 

And J oy-Sing cried a little, for, of 
all the creatures, she loved the doves 
best. 



105 







A PICTURE 
OF JOY-SING 





























A 









CHAPTER XII 
A PICTURE OF JOY-SING 

N OW the fox had slept so much 
and had grown so fat and lazy 
that he did not seem like a cunning 
fox any more. 

And the prince came that very day 
and stormed and swore so furiously 
at the tree that the fox in his burrow 
became alarmed. 

“ If I keep up this life of inglori- 
109 



Little Miss Joy-Sing 


ous inactivity any longer I shall not 
be fit for business, and shall fall an 
easy prey to dogs when I endeavor to 
change my residence. I must be hero- 
ic and stop it, though it is very hard to 
do,” sighed the fox. “ Besides, there 
are no more doves, anyhow. Miss Joy- 
Sing, you have been very kind to me, 
and have earned your freedom. Now, 
just to show you that I have not lost 
my disposition to help you, in what 
shape would you like me to appear be- 
fore the prince?” 

“ Appear before the prince!” 
gasped Joy-Sing. 

“ Certainly,” said the fox. “ He 
would be more frightened of me than 
I of him if he knew who I was. I am 
not afraid of any man or any ma- 
chine. And it is now time to an- 
nounce that the pine-tree is dead, and 
that it must be cut down. The work 
110 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


is far enough advanced, even if there 
are no more doves— ” and the fox 
ended with a sigh for the beautiful 
life which was ending for him. 

“ Can you take any shape?” asked 
the girl. 

“Anything— from a locomotive to 
a gnat!” laughed the fox. “ But I 
hate to do it. It is like work after 
these months of eating and sleeping.” 

“ Eating?” questioned Joy-Sing. 
“Alas! it is true! I have been most 
inhospitable! I have never thought 
of your food ! How hungry you must 
be! ” 

“ It has been a regular feast!” 

Joy-Sing did not understand this. 
And she had no time now to think it 
out. She had thought of something 
better. 

“ Can you change to a pretty girl ?” 

“ Certainly,” said the fox. 

Ill 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ Can you make yourself look like 

meV’ 

“Yes. if I could see a picture of 
you.” 

“ There is one in my little room in 
the house at the foot of the hill! 
Asami, the photographer, in Honchi- 
Dori, made it! ” She was all excite- 
ment now. “You go up one flight, 
turn to the right, then to the left, open 
the shoji with the pink carp upon it, 
enter, and there, in my red-lacquered 
cabinet—” 

She was quite choked with her own 
words. 

But the fox was already gone. 

How she looked and waited for him 
to appear ! Just fancy ! 


112 

















































\ 















































































HE COULD N'T 
CHANGE BOTH FEET 



8 — Little Miss Joy -Sing 













































CHAPTER XIII 

HE COULD N'T CHANGE BOTH FEET 

P RESENTLY she saw coming up 
the hill her very self! It was 
not her best kimono— the green one. 
She had that on— though it had been, 
somehow, lost in the foliage of the 
pine-tree— but it was certainly a very 
pretty one, of a shaded pink crape, 
with a gold-brocaded obi and a very 
good length of sleeve, and that was 
115 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


her own walk and her own smile, and 
everything was herself except— hor- 
ror upon horror!— as the kimono 
parted in walking her feet showed, 
and they were the feet of a fox ! 

“ How do I look?” asked the fox. 

Oh, lovely! You are quite me! 
But-” 

“ But?” 

“ But, can’t you change your feet, 
too?” wailed Miss Joy-Sing. 

“ No,” said the fox, “ or else I 
could never change back again. I 
must have something to start with.” 

“ I should never want to change 
back,” pouted Joy-Sing, “ if I were 
such a pretty girl.” 

“ That is because you have never 
been a fox. It is ten times the fun it 
is to be a girl. Besides, you know, 
you were such a pretty girl— this very 
one!— and you were not satisfied with 
116 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


yourself— you did prefer to be a 
pine-tree.’ ’ 

“Yes,” sighed Joy-Sing, irrele- 
vantly. “Please change your feet!” 

“ Then I shall be in precisely the 
fix you are. And I couldn’t help 
you. Hereafter when you change to 
something else always keep a foot or 
a hand to start back with.” 

“ Would n’t one foot do?” 

“ Well, yes,” said the fox, “ but it 
is the very last atom I dare let go. 
Still, to show you how much I like 
you, I will run the risk and change 
the other foot, and keep but one to get 
back with.” 

He did this, and they both laughed 
to see one of Joy-Sing’s dainty little 
feet beside one of his hairy claws. 

“ But, the deuce of it is,” lamented 
the fox, “ that it makes me limp 
he showed her that he did— “ and if 
117 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


I should have to run I could not 
run half as fast as I ought to get away 
from dogs and men— and it will take 
me longer to change myself back. Be- 
sies, I might put the wrong foot for- 
ward. But you are certainly a very 
pretty girl, and you have certainly 
been kind to me,” sighed the senti- 
mental fox. “You must know that 
the one creature who can see-through 
all this drapery— that I am nothing 
more nor less than a fox, is sleeping 
yonder, and happens to be my dead- 
liest enemy”— he pointed to the dog— 
“and, inside, there— the palace— is a 
yambushi, who can, in a moment, if 
he makes his fingers this way, and 
blows toward me through the dia- 
mond-shaped holes, and says the pro- 
per words, exorcise me so that I will 
be nothing but a very fat fox, run- 
ning for my life. Moreover, all this, 
118 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


this place is surrounded by water. 
And, you know, that no fox can cross 
water without his shadow being 
thrown upon it When that happens 
all is up with the fox! For, what- 
ever his form, he can’t throw any 
but the shadow of a fox, and he is 
drowned by that quite as if the shad- 
ow were he. Foxes always cross 
streams at night and in the dark of 
the moon, when he can throw no 
shadow. Now, do you see all the dan- 
ger I am going into for you % ’ ’ 

“ Yes, O-Kitsune-San, ” said Joy- 
Sing, coaxingiy; “ but if I could run 
as fast as you—” 

“ Oh, well,” said the fox, “ I ’ll do 
it because it is you. I ’m not afraid 
—only fat.” 

“ Please don’t let the prince see the 
fox-foot ! Keep mine out all the 
time, and it will be all right.” 

119 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


“ The prince!” said the fox. 
“ Pooh! It ’s the dog! ” 

“ Yes,” answered Joy-Sing. 16 1 
thought, maybe, you would not mind 
telling the prince that you are me 
“ No!” laughed the fox. “ Not at 
all! If I get past the dog I II leave 
your card! ” 



120 


IF SHE HAD ONLY 
REMAINED A LITTLE GIRL 
























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CHAPTER XIV 


IF SHE HAD ONLY^REMAINED A LITTLE 


GIRL 



HEREUPONaip to the door of 


X the yashiki he' stalked. And 
there he clapped his hands— or Joy- 
Sing’s hands— which, you must know, 
is the way they “ knock ” in Japan, 
and carefully hiding his fox-foot, 
called out : 

“ The Honorable Miss Joy-Sing to 


123 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


the Prince of Don’t- Care- What ! 
Honorable pardon deign! ” 

In fact, he should have let his tail 
appear, and have knocked with that. 
For all foxes knock at doors with 
their tails. And, for this purpose, 
they are furnished at the end with a 
handsome jewel. Indeed, some of them 
have golden fur on their tails be- 
sides— so very important to a fox is 
his tail. But, if he had shown his tail, 
the dog, which was quite near, might 
have seen it, and then it would have 
been all up with O-Kitsune-San. As 
it was the dog did not even growl. 
Besides, he remembered at once that 
he was not himself, but Joy-Sing. 

“ Who disturbs my slumber ? ’ ’ 
Joy-Sing could hear the prince roar 
this, and she was terrified. But not 
the fox. He turned and changed his 
face to that of a fox for a moment 
124 


Little Miss Joy- Sing 


and winked. Then he repeated his 
salutation, and the moment the prince 
saw it was a pretty girl he bowed low 
and spoke softly. The fox drew him, 
with the most cunning conversation, 
to the tree, so that Joy-Sing might 
hear what he was saying and know 
what he was doing. And his language 
was the finest and most courtly the 
girl had ever heard. So that she 
sighed and said: (Of course, the 
prince could not understand the lan- 
guage of a pine-tree.) 

“Oh, if I had only remained a 
pretty girl, and gone straight to his 
door and knocked ! If I ever get over 
this I shall know better. And I shall 
tell all the other girls. Perhaps write 
a book about it! If they want a 
prince it is much better to go straight 
to his door and ask for him. And 
that the very last thing a girl ought 
125 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


to be is a motionless, speechless, timid 
pine-tree! Oh, yes! A prince may 
admire a pine-tree— as a pine-tree! 
Bnt what a proper girl wants is to be 
admired as a girl! ” 

Still the prince talked on. 

And, in grandiloquence of language, 
the fox could not be outdone. Indeed, 
wherever the prince had one adjec- 
tive the fox had ten. 

“ Beautiful maiden,’ ’ said the 
prince, presently, “ most augustly 
lovely one, I can no longer restrain 
my lips— most miserable—” 

And then and there the prince of- 
fered Miss Joy-Sing, in the person 
of the fox, his beautiful palace, him- 
self, a chest full of splendid kimono, 
jeweled kanzashi for her hair, a mir- 
ror to see her face in, paint to paint 
her cheeks, and almost everything she 
had ever wished for in all her life! 

126 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


And the fox, quite as if he had been 
truly her, accepted them all with pro- 
found thanks, then turned and 
winked at Joy-Sing. 

4 4 Tell me, then,” begged the prince, 
“ the place of your abode, so that I 
may at once ask your hand of your 
father—” 

Ah, but she did wish that she had 
remained a pretty little girl, and had 
gone straight to the prince’s door. 
No lesson her father had ever taught 
her was so powerful as this ! 

Remember that the fox winked to 
Joy-Sing. 



127 





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DOGS! 





9 — Little Miss Joy-Sing 




CHAPTER XY 
dogs! 

“T)UT, alas, Honorable Master 
LJ Prince of a Thousand Courte- 
sies, I have a disgusting duty to per- 
form,’ ’ now spoke the fox. “ Behold 
how your honorable and ancient tree 
dies! It is possessed not by the au- 
gust spirits of your renowned ances- 
tors, but by foxes, and I cannot ac- 
cept your august hand until you 
131 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


purge yourself of foxes, and there is 
but one way to dispossess yourself 
and your tree of them, and that is 
to cut it down— ” 

The fox had got so far, when he 
thought it well to stop and think and 
to wink to Joy-Sing again. Eor, as 
you will perceive, he was doing very 
well indeed. 

Alas! that was a fatal wink! No 
wink had ever been more fatal ! Miss 
Joy-Sing saw a look of the utmost 
horror come over the features of the 
prince. He was looking at something 
on the ground. He was on his knees, 
you know. She looked, too. The 
fox had exposed his claw-foot as he 
turned ! 

“ The other foot!” gasped Joy- 
Sing. 

But it was too late. It is true that 
the fox at once withdrew his own foot 
132 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


and put forth the very pretty one of 
Joy-Sing, trusting for a moment in 
its fascination. But the prince had 
seen that ominous sign before. 

“A fox!” he cried. And then, in a 
loud voice: “ I am possessed by 
foxes! Binzujo!” 

Now Binzujo was the priest, or the 
yambushi, who could cast out foxes 
and disenchant their enchantments, 
and he happened to be in the door- 
way. He at once uttered the words 
of exorcism, locked his fingers in a 
diamond-shaped pattern, and blew 
through them toward the poor fox. 
The fox, in mortal terror, forgot— 
abandoned— Joy-Sing, and started to 
run. But the skirts of Joy-Sing im- 
peded him. He raised them. Now 
there could be no doubt that he was 
a fox. There was the claw-foot and 
the girl’s foot— the one going twice 
133 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


as fast as the other— the one con- 
stantly impeding the other. 

And, worse and worse, at the tu- 
mult the dog woke up and at once 
knew the pretty girl for nothing but 
a fox. He bayed terribly that thing 
all dogs bay when they pursue a gob- 
lin-fox : 

4 ‘ Kitsune-bi ! Kitsune-bi ! ’ 9 

And, almost at once, this awful sig- 
nal travelled to every dog for miles 
around, so that all the world seemed 
alive with the baying of that terrible 

‘ ‘ Kitsune-bi ! Kitsune-bi ! 9 9 

And from far and near they gath- 
ered upon the trail of the poor fox. 

“ Oh,” the fox anathematized Joy- 
Sing and all pretty girls and their 
skirts. 

“ If I ever get out of this no .silly 
girl shall get me into such a scrape 
again! Oh! Oh! Oh! ” 

134 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


Now he could hear the words of ex- 
orcism, and even the priest was gain- 
ing on him. The moment a fox hears 
the words he ceases to be a fox. The 
dogs gained prodigiously, of course. 
No fox had ever been caught. Was 
he to be the first ? 

“ Nirn nishu— ’Mida Butsu.” 

Well, the exorcism was too power- 
ful for Kitsune-San, and the dogs 
were now very close. 

There before him was the stream 
he had crossed in the night when he 
came to tempt Joy-Sing so that he 
would cast” no shadow. But it was 
broad daylight, the sun shone, and he 
could not evade his shadow. He 
plunged on— and then he came to the 
stream. 

And there Joy-Sing saw her own 
presentment vanish in the form of a 
fat fox. At the same time the dogs 
135 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


closed in upon him, and the words of 
the priest were distinctly audible. 
And no one knows to this day just 
what happened— whether the dogs 
finished the fox, or whether the 
fox changed himself into a fish and 
dived under that water, or whether 
he was drowned by his own shadow, 
or— But what is the use of guess- 
ing? ISTo one knows! 

The priest returned, still repeating 
the words of the exorcism. 

The dogs stopped baying, and went 
to their homes, and that is the last 
that Joy-Sing ever saw of the fox, 
who deceived her, yet was kind to her 
at the last, and, perhaps, lost his life 
because he ^ignobly fattened upon 
doves. 

Now the prince hated the tree— not- 
withstanding the priest assured him 
of complete exorcism. He accused 
136 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


the soul abiding there of having be- 
foxed him. And then, too, he accused 
the tree of being dead, since it was 
as bare as if it had never been green. 
He remembered the suggestion of the 
fox, and, that he might be be-foxed 
no more, he resolved to cut it down. 

And so it came to pass that the 
very thing Joy-Sing had wished and 
could not bring about— even with 
the help of Kitsune-San— had been 
brought about by the wicked fox in 
h::s own selfishness— which has a very 
good moral— if you please, sir, and 
madame. 



137 







BUT— WAS THERE 
NO TREE— NO PRINCE? 







































CHAPTER XVI 


BUT— WAS THERE NO TREE— NO PRINCE? 



O came the prince one morn- 


ing to anathematize the tree 
before cutting it down, quite in the 
Japanese way. 

“ Miserable pine-tree,” he said, 
“ now I know. You have not the soul 
of any ancestor of mine. First, some 
vast demon cast out the soul of my 
blessed ancestor and possessed you. 
Then he gave you over to the foxes. 


141 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


Then you be-foxed me! You revile 
me. I hate you. You have not given 
me long life. My beard is white. I 
am sad and ugly. Yet I am not so 
very old. You are a lie. You have 
not given me happiness. The reason 
is evident. You do not have it your- 
self. One cannot give what one does 
not one’s self possess. You are only 
full of foxes. I am. I do not believe 
the priest. You yourself wither, are 
naked, dying— a horrible skeleton. 
Can a thing which is itself dying give 
life? Can a thing which is unhappy 
give happiness? Can a thing which 
is be-foxed do else than be-fox? And 
the multitude jeer at me as I go by. 
They say, ‘ Behold the Prince of 
Don’t-Care- What ! His beard is white. 
He withers. He dies ! It is the pine- 
tree. He does not deserve long life and 
happiness. It has lived four hundred 
142 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


—a thousand— years. It has given 
long life and happiness to all his an- 
cestors. That was because they lived 
so as to deserve it. But this prince 
does not. ’ But they do not know that 
you are be-foxed. Nor that I am, 
thank Shaka ! They never shall ! To- 
morrow morning you shall be cut off 
—yes, early in the morning, when 
there is no one to see ! And after that 
you shall be without a habitation for- 
ever. Foxes! Foxes of the air! I 
shall see you run!— run to new habi- 
tations! ” 

And all that night Joy-Sing shiv- 
ered and waited. 

In the morning came the prince 
and his retinue once more. There 
was sadness in his face, and now she 
saw that it had been a long time, and 
he had grown very old and ill-look- 
ing. His beard was long and thin 
143 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


and quite white— just like the old 
prince’s had been. And he stooped, 
and held to the arm of the gardener 
as he walked. For now the gardener 
had a stalwart son. And it was he 
who carried the shining axe. So she 
knew that many years had passed. 
She did not remember when nor how 
they had happened— all those years— 
but, then, it was all a matter of en- 
chantment ! 

For a moment the prince stood and 
looked sadly upon the tree, and for 
a moment Joy-Sing was sorry. For 
she remembered that he had accused 
her of his ruin. And if she had not 
taken the place of the habitation of 
the soul of his kindly ancestor, who 
can say that his life would not have 
been better and longer and happier? 
Had she, little Joy-Sing, because of 
a foolish wish, spoiled the life of a 
144 



WHY— WHY— WHY ! 


I AM not so OLD ! ” 



















































































































































































































Little Miss Joy-Sing 


prince and destroyed the most re- 
nowned pine-tree in the world ? She 
was very sorry for him, but that did 
not bring back his youth, or his happi- 
ness, or save the tree, or remove the 
spell of the foxes. Such is the curse 
of envy. 

The prince bowed his head, and all 
his retinue did the same. Then he 
prayed once more— not the angry 
prayer, but one of pity and mercy. 
He begged all the Japanese gods to 
pardon and be merciful to the evil 
soul which had dispossessed that of 
his ancestor, then yielded to the foxes, 
which had destroyed his tree, his life, 
taken all his joy, and to the soul it- 
self he wished a longer and better life 
than his, a better habitation, and for- 
gave it entirely— for he said that 
with the tree he, too, must die — (there 
had always been a prophecy to the 

10 — Little Miss Joy-Sing 145 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


effect that with the death of the tree 
his line should perish) —but he had no 
mercy for the foxes— and— he was 
ready. So— sayonara— All while 
Joy-Sing was possessed with hor- 
ror for the ruin she had wrought. 

At the last word of the prince the 
stalwart young gardener sunk his axe 
into the trunk, and J oy-Sing shrieked 
—and found herself in the arms of 
her father. 

“ I must be old, old, old; and have 
missed so much. Let me have my 
mirror. ’ ’ 

“ Sh-sh-sh! Miserable my daugh- 
ter— why have you been so trou- 
bled ?” 

u Troubled !” sobbed Joy-Sing. 
“ Oh, I will never wish again to leave 
you.” 

“ Leave me— ? ” 

u Oh — I have been gone for years 
146 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


and years! and I have ruined, de- 
stroyed everything. There is not a 
dove in the whole world ! The prince 
was quite young when I went. Yes- 
terday he was so old— so old— so old 
—and sad— hopeless— Such is the 
curse of envy! ” 

She shivered. 

4 6 Let me have my little mirror. ’ 9 

Her father brought it. 

“ Why— why— why, I am not old! 
I am not much older than when I 
went away.” 

“ You have not been away,” said 
her father. 

“ What— was there no pine-tree- 
no bug— no owl— no dove— no crea- 
tures— no gardener — no axe— no 
fox— no prince? ” 

“ Nothing— You have just awak- 
ened,” said her father, “ and your 
breakfast rice is hot.” 

147 


Little Miss Joy-Sing 


(If you do not understand precisely 
what had happened to Joy-Sing, you 
will have to return and read the be- 
ginning of Chapter Third as a penalty 
for careless reading.) 

And she put her arms around her 
father’s neck, and cried upon him. 

And after that envy departed from 
Joy-Sing forever. 



THE END 


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